The Player Gets Played
by rainbow letters
Summary: Molly strikes a deal with Mycroft and plays Sherlock at his own game to get something she wants.


I don't want to give too much away here. But here is a hint: Complete and utter (facial) fluff. You have been warned.

Summary: Molly strikes a deal with Mycroft and plays Sherlock at his own game to get something she wants.

* * *

By the time she reached 221B on that fine Spring morning she noticed the Jaguar parked directly outside as she expected. She fumbled for the keys in her purse as she held a large container in her other arm. Her knee length yellow skirt swayed slightly in the breeze and a white cotton blouse embroidered with tiny green leaves was tucked into the hem of her skirt. A simple pair of red pumps adorned her feet. She proceeded to make her way into the flat and placed the box by the door. Mrs Hudson had given her a spare key due the amount of times she came over nowadays. That and I think she was relieved that Sherlock didn't pester her as much when Molly was around.

Mycroft and Sherlock had been locked away for days. Molly had to admit the smell when she entered the flat was less than appealing. Takeaway cartons were piled waist high and a massacre of board games and their matching pieces littered the floor. Not to mention the smell of two bodies who were in dire need of a hosing down.

On the coffee table was an unfinished game of Risk. The two men sat opposite each other in a tense showdown. They hadn't even acknowledged her presence in the flat. She took the opportunity to look at Sherlock. His hair sat wild and untamed on his head and when she observed the newly acquired stubble on his face she smiled.

"Mycroft. I believe your car is outside."

"Molly." Sherlock called deeply to her. "Not now."

She sighed loudly enough for the men to hear. Not that they paid any attention. If she didn't act now she would lose him for another two days at least. She walked over to the table and flipped the board as the figures and cards scattered and fell onto the table and the surrounding floor.

"FOR GOODNESS SAKES MOLLY. DID YOU NOT HEAR ME. I WAS TWO TERRITORIES AWAY FROM BEATING THIS IMBECILE." Sherlock's hands raised in frustration and they pulled on his dark, greasy strands.

"Oh calm yourself Sherlock. You always exaggerate. Did you really think you could take Australia in two turns?" With that Mycroft stood and stretched his limbs. He picked up his suit jacket from underneath a Trivial Pursuit lid and promptly slid his arms into it.

"I believe it's time we called it a day, Sherlock. Until next time." Sherlock didn't respond he sat there in his dark silk robe and camel pyjamas with his arms crossed over his chest. His head stretched awkwardly, looking as far away from Molly as possible.

Molly looked back at Mycroft then who conveyed a look back at her to follow him out of the flat. Molly followed Mycroft down the stairs to the main door, leaving Sherlock to sulk in his chair. He turned and looked at the large container left at the bottom of the stairs.

"My payment, Dr Hooper." He mumbled quietly. She picked the container up off the floor and handed over the goods to Mycroft.

"As promised one double tiered red velvet cake, a batch of oat and raisin cookies and a banana loaf."

"As much as it pains me to say, it was a pleasure doing business with you."

"You had just as much fun as Sherlock did. Don't even try to deny it." He responded with a small grin whilst he opened the catch on the door.

"I must dash. Anthea is waiting in the car and I don't think she is as pleased about this transaction as we are." He smiled briefly again at her before briskly leaving through the door and closing it behind him.

"Why are you conducting business deals with my brother?"

Sherlock stood directly at the top of the stairs and Molly turned round to face him.

"Not a business deal as such. More of a mutually beneficial arrangement." She proceeded back up the stairs to the flat and as she passed him he let out a sigh of frustration. She could feel him following behind her and he continued his rant the moment her foot stepped over the threshold.

"Oh, please do go on. Because I can clearly see that your end of the deal included a days worth of cake for the fat controller! What was in it for you?"

She stared at him then, well more directly at his unkempt and stubbled jaw. Sherlock watched her gaze. He brought his hand up to brush across his facial hair, sweeping away invisible crumbs.

"Is there something on my face?"

She shook her head but still kept her eyes on his newly acquired stubble. He watched her with a confused expression for a moment. Then she saw his expression change to one she had seen many times before when he cracked a particularly exciting case. His ocean blue eyes twinkled back at her.

"Oh, Molly Hooper, I do believe you played me." He stepped towards her in one stride, stopping right in front of her. She smirked up at him then.

"The player got played. What more can I say. Your brother was a major help of course. I couldn't have possibly pulled this off without him." She crossed her arms across her chest and smiled proudly.

"You took advantage of the competitiveness between Mycroft and myself. All it took was him to dangle the carrot, or in this case a game of Cluedo and you knew we would be playing for days. All this just for some facial hair? Would it not have been easier to ask?"

"Yes, but it wouldn't have been half as fun. And there is no way you would have consented anyways. It always has been the hard way with you." She turned her head to look out the window.

"I feel like I should be angry with you. I'm actually impressed." His arms slid around her waist and he pulled her closer to his chest. She wrinkled her nose as the odours from his robe invaded her nostrils.

"Sherlock, you really need to wash." She tried to lean away from him, but he held her close.

"You don't get to call the shots now Molly Hooper. Don't you want to claim your prize?" He lowered his face down to hers and rested his forehead on hers before he whispered against her skin. "Although I think we can come to some arrangement."

For the briefest of moments his lips hovered above hers and before she knew it she had been whisked off her feet and into a fireman's carry over Sherlock's shoulder. She shrieked at the sudden movement as he sprinted them both down the hall to the bathroom. Before she knew it she was stood fully clothed under a cold stream of water. It wasn't long before he joined her under the spray, his odour ridden night wear left in a pile on the bathroom floor. His fingers moved to the buttons on her blouse hungrily and he kissed her neck fervently.

"Isn't this fair? Now we have all gained from this little transaction." He mumbled against her skin. As the last of her clothes had been peeled off her skin, he pressed her into the cold hard tiles and his stubble grazed against her cheek; she couldn't help but smile.

As he adjusted her against the tiles bringing her legs up to wrap around his waist, she spied his electric razor lying on the bathroom counter. She made a mental note to dispose of that later. For now she was more than happy to enjoy her prize as she placed a kiss to his soft facial fuzz.

* * *

I am a sucker for facial hair.

I am also a bigger sucker for Benedict Cumberbatch with facial hair.

This is dedicated to everyone who enjoyed The Lying Detective purely because of a fuzzy faced Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
